Of James Madison, saltine crackers, and roommates

I didn't go to church today. I'm sick. Blah. Every time I eat something my stomach contorts with horrible pain. Since 2:30pm yesterday all I've eaten is a single Ritz cracker. I took some Pepto Bismol, which doesn't particularly help. I've also tried drinking some Sprite, which hasn't helped either. I'm hesitantly eating a saltine cracker right now, hoping that the magic combination of saltines and clear soda will miraculously cure me. Until I am cured, I will sit here in bed blogging and reading an incredibly boring biography on James Madison.

I received a letter in the mail yesterday from the BYU School of Music. I didn't get in. Disappointing, yes, but I hadn't really gotten my hopes up so I wasn't totally crushed. All this means is that I have to decide now if I want to re-audition next year, or if I want to pursue another major entirely. So I have a lot of thinking and praying to do.

Cue saltine no.2.

The roommates (excluding Roommates D and E--they weren't home and probably wouldn't participate even if they were) and I chatted for several hours last night. It was then that I revealed the gay identities of a few of the Queerosphere bloggers (with their permission of course). Cuorderoy already knew, and Roommates B and C weren't surprised. We had a good, long talk about it, and they were thoroughly inspired by their example. They were also happy to know that they had so many gay friends. I love my roommates. They are amazing.

I've had four saltines. I'm so hungry--I could finish two bags of these things--but I'm afraid of what will happen if I eat any more.

I wonder how cows deal with four stomachs. It must be awful.